


tomorrow’s gonna bring us what we both need

by Vilchen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Takes place in between episodes, Yuuri can be stubborn as a mule, tags are difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilchen/pseuds/Vilchen
Summary: "I can do it,” he mumbles, pointedly avoiding eye contact."I know you can," he says, "but you still need sleep."And maybe he finally said the right thing, because Yuuri looks up at him like he’s a trick of the light ready to disappear, even though Victor has shown him time and time again that he’s here to stay. Still, it looks like he’s seconds from reaching out, trick of the light or no.





	tomorrow’s gonna bring us what we both need

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Sail Up The Sun' by Dylan Owen.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

 

Yuuri is stubborn. Victor learns this early on, and in the beginning it’s surprising. It doesn’t fit into the image of Yuuri he knows from Hasetsu—shy and hesitant—or the Yuuri from the banquet, adoring and seductive and bright like a diamond. But that’s just in the beginning. Because Yuuri is shy and hesitant, but he approaches Yuri Plisetsky’s challenge the way Victor approached the seniors division back in the day: with a 'won't take no for an answer' attitude and his eyes set on the prize—which ironically enough is Victor himself this time around.

And after Hot Springs on Ice, everything changes. Victor does his best to show that he’s here to stay now and picks up coaching both on and off the ice with a goal clear in mind. Yuuri belongs on the podium. And Victor will make sure to get him there. And apparently, the ice is where his stubbornness really shines through.

Yuuri flies through the air: one, two, three and a half rotation before he hits the ice and falls over again. It’s the fourth failed attempt in a row.

“Take a break,” he says. His own joints ache just at the sight of him, and it’s not good for his morale or body if they continue like this. You can never do too much core training, after all, and he has half a mind to tell him so when Yuuri collects himself and gets up, spinning to look at him with his brows set in a stony frown.

“One more time.”

“You need a break,” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming. “I’m your coach, Yuuri, and I have to put my foot down.”

“I can do it!” And his voice has that raspy quality that only comes fourth when he’s teetering on the edge of something aching and vulnerable, and Victor is still figuring out when to push and when to give, but that expression brings fourth the part of him that wants to guide and nurture, but rarely does anything but tear at the seams of something that’s already fraying at the edges.

“Last chance,” he says, and it’s the best and worst thing he could’ve said. Up the stakes, lower the consequences. Challenge him. Take away the option of failure. Pressure him. How much?

But Yuuri turns away, skates a lap to build up speed and jumps. One, two, three, four rotations. His landing is shaky and ungraceful and needs a ton of work, but he’s standing, automatically straightening his posture to look as regal as Minako trained him to, and Victor can’t help but grin when Yuuri twists towards him. Victory does indeed look good on him.

 

* * *

 

Victor sort of understands why Yuuri pushes himself as far as he does on the ice. He knows plenty of skaters who perform at their best when they’re ten minutes from collapsing—he’s one of them too. He spent just as much time defying Yakov as he spent listening to him back in the days, and he has powered through plenty of ice shows with pure spite. But unlike other skaters like them, Yuuri doesn’t shed that part of him when he unties his skates and walks out of Ice Castle. It runs far deeper than just the need to get things done, and for the first time since buying his one way ticket to Hasetsu, Victor's unsure he’ll ever reach that part of Yuuri as they are now.

Another training session where he doesn’t see the line and pushes Yuuri too far. A glimpse of what hides underneath the calm and shy front, and proof that patience is never endless. And suddenly, he can’t catch him alone for more than a minute at most.

A week passes. Victor decides it’s time push again and drags him to the beach, somewhere secluded, somewhere they’re on neutral ground. He gives him a chance to reach back, because Victor has been reaching for him since that one night with champagne when Yuuri robbed an innocent gold medalist’s heart, and Yuuri surprises him again. Because in the end, he didn’t steal a gold medalist’s heart, he stole _Victor’s_.

 

* * *

 

"Yuuri, dear, can you run down to the supermarket for me?"

"Sure thing, _Okaa_ - _san_."

Victor whistles for Makkachin and follows Yuuri to the door. He rummages through the drawer for Makka's leash, and Yuuri waits for them by the door without batting an eye. Afternoon walks together has become a regular occurrence lately, Victor notes gleefully.

The nearest supermarket doesn’t allow dogs inside, and Victor hates leaving Makkachin tied down outside, so he stays out with her while Yuuri does the shopping. The ground is dry enough for him to sit down with Makka and enjoy the nearly-clear sky and the warmth of the sun.

Yuuri comes out a while later with three grocery bags in his hands. Victor offers to take one, but he just laughs and walks ahead of them.

“I can do it,” he says and leads the way home with Makkachin at his heals.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri makes for a quite a view at all times of day—Victor should know considering the amount of time he has spent enjoying that particular view—and he truly is a katsudon fatale in every sense of the word. In the morning with his groggy yawns and glasses askew, looking so adorably tempting Victor could probably eat him for breakfast. On the ice he’s all coy smiles, seductive twists and sweaty lines shining under the lights, beautiful enough to bring men to their knees. But his favorite is the evenings whenever he curls up with Makkachin on the couch, television illuminating his soft expression and the hair falling to cover his forehead and hide his shy glances.

This time, Victor is longing on a couch with a very pleasant view of the kitchen. Some sport event is playing on the tv, and the rest of the onsen's patrons mill about doing as they please. Yuuri has his back turned to him, stretching on his tip toes to reach a bowl on the highest shelf and paying no mind to his t-shirt riding up in the process. Two inches of creamy, soft skin on full display to Victor's pleasure. Thank god for Mama Katsuki's short genes.

After about a minute of Yuuri struggling and Victor ~~ogling~~ observing him, Mari appears seemingly out of nowhere and pulls the bowl down into his hands.

"You know we have stools, right?" She says with an eyebrow raised. Yuuri's neck turn slightly red, but he clings to the bowl and murmurs a thank you anyways.

"I can do it, y'know," he says, but Mari's back is already turned.

 

* * *

 

It’s nearing one o’clock in the morning when Victor wakes up, thirsty and with a light headache. A sliver of moonlight peeks through the blinds and casts a pale light at Makkachin’s sleeping form by the foot of the bed.

He climbs carefully out of bed as not to disturb Makkachin and slips through the door without a sound. The bathroom across the hall has a glass with his toothbrush in it, so he doesn’t have to sneak downstairs, but it’s times like these he regrets not just taking a regular room with a connected bathroom. But then he'd have to sleep in a single bed, and there’s no way to fit a standard poodle and a grown man in one of those, so it’s probably for the best.

He’s still drowsy when he exits the bathroom, but there’s a light shining from under Yuuri's door, and he should definitely not be awake at this time of night when they have practice in less than six hours. Yuuri's door isn’t as well oiled as his, apparently, and the squeak it makes when Victor opens it sounds way louder than it’s supposed to in the silence of the empty hallway. Yuuri peeks up from his notebook and pulls out one of his earbuds.

"Victor? What are you doing?" He looks soft in the light from the lamp on his nightstand and his voice is barely above a whisper. Victor just emptied a glass of water, but his mouth feels unexplainably dry at the moment.

"Are you working on the free skate?"

Yuuri nods. Victor leans in the doorway and puts on his best coach face—an imitation of Yakov, really—brows furrowed and a slight downturn of his lips. Yuuri glances at the digital clock, shuffles a little deeper under his covers and looks away, pencil still clutched in his hand. 

"I can do it,” he mumbles, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

"I know you can," he says, "but you still need sleep."

And maybe he finally said the right thing, because Yuuri looks up at him like he’s a trick of the light ready to disappear, even though Victor has shown him time and time again that he’s here to stay. Still, it looks like he’s seconds from reaching out, trick of the light or no.

"Victor, I—"

Words seem to escape him, and it's late, later than any of them should be up, and Victor has already pushed enough for one night.

"Goodnight, Yuuri," he says. Yuuri's movements are slow as he pushes his notebook away and turns the light off. Victor can still feel him looking, observing. It’s not a bad feeling,

"Goodnight, Victor."

 

* * *

 

On their morning run to the Ice Castle, Yuuri waves at Victor to stop when they cross the bridge. They’ve never stopped before. Yuuri doesn’t say anything, just leans on the railing and stares at the blazing orange skies and the sun just peeking up from the horizon, so Victor does the same.

It’s easy to sneak looks at Yuuri like this, and he finds himself staring at his face, at the glasses perched on his nose and the dark hair fluttering in the breeze. _What_ _a_ _view_.

"I can take care of myself," he says, eyes still trained on the rising sun. Victor opens his mouth to say something—

"—and you know that."

Yuuri looks at him. There’s no judgement to find in his expression, no desperation or nervousness. Just passive acknowledgement.

"But in my head, I still need to prove something. I—I have to show you, Yurio and the rest of the world that I’m fine on my own and that I don’t need anyone’s help to function, and sometimes that makes me do things you might think is...weird."

He goes back to staring at the horizon again, but his shoulders are a little tenser. For the first time since the banquet and the Stammi Vicino video, he's the one reaching out, waiting to see if Victor will reach back.

"Yuuri."

Yuuri grips the railing tighter. Victor takes one of his hands, so warm and soft even without gloves, and brings it to his mouth.

"I believe in you," he breathes it into Yuuri's knuckles like a promise, and when he lets their hands fall from his lips, they stay intertwined. There’s a shy blush on his cheeks and Yuuri still avoids eye contact, but it looks more flustered than detached and Victor’s heart beats twice as fast again but he’s fine.

"Is that okay?" He asks, because he still can’t be sure about when to push and when to give. But he’ll learn.

A stiff nod, barely even there. Victor lets go of the railing and picks up his bike. They walk the rest of the way in silence, Yuuri's hand still warm in his own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was really unhappy about the first draft of this, so I sat down and edited for three hours, accidentally deleted it and started over. It’s late, I’m tired, I have a really important math test tomorrow and I’m finally done with this thing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed :) Feel free to yell(gently) at me in the comments!


End file.
